


Your Turn to Speak

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post 2x24, Secret Marriage, Smut, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:10:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7564927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tricky piece with the Scorpion team is communication, and it's even harder when you're in a relationship. But there's a component to a relationship that requires communication, and Toby has an idea of how to help Happy with it after the reveal of her marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Turn to Speak

She comes back that night to check on him. He’s drunk and stupid, and they argue loud and full of rage and hurt, but she’s back.

She tells him everything – how the marriage happened when she was young, how her marriage just fell apart as they grew apart, how trying to tell him never managed to happen, how scared she was to say anything for fear that she’d get hurt or hurt Toby.

He listens to all of it, but when she leans in to kiss him, he doesn’t know how to respond.

“I just – I need some time,” Toby says, stepping away from her. “I smell like tequila, you’re – you’re drenched. Why are you drenched?”

“It was raining,” Happy says simply.

“Raining?” Toby asks. “It never rains in LA.”

Happy shrugs. “It did today.”

Toby pulls her in for a hug and lets it happen, feeling Happy’s arms wrap around him. It feels like home and like hell at the same time, though half of that could be from the sheer amount of tequila he’s ingested.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Toby promises. “I just need some time.”

“I’m not letting you drive home,” Happy insists, pulling away. “I mean, I won’t stay. But I’m driving you home.” She steps away, and there’s that Happy Quinn determination in her eyes. It’s her way of telling him she cares, and he appreciates it.

But he stays quiet on the drive to his house while Happy puts the radio on “scan” and skips every single song or talk show that comes up. Toby hates the awkward silence. They’ve never had something like this – always one of them would talk or babble along (usually Toby). But right now it feels wrong, the air thick with things neither is ready to say. Toby starts to wish that they could be two weeks from now where this is better, when there isn’t a broken, shattered feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

Happy stops in front of Toby’s apartment and doesn’t unbuckle, fiddling with the steering wheel. “Talk to you tomorrow?” She doesn’t look at him, but he can hear how hopeful she is.

“Definitely,” Toby says. He steps out of the car. “Thanks, uh,” he rubs the back of his neck, then adjusts his hat, “thanks for the ride.”

Happy nods, then drives away, and Toby’s never felt so alone in his life.

He forces himself into the shower, makes himself wash away some of the misery that had settled in his skin over the past few hours. He always forgets how much tequila sticks with you, but it’s got nothing on heartbreak.

He accidentally uses the body wash Happy left in his shower months ago, and just sighs in frustration. It’s not bad enough that she’s in his head – his shower has to smell like her, too.

Toby just wants to forget, just for a little bit. And he knows the only way to do that is sleep, but the only way to get to that point is to shower off the smell of Happy’s body wash.

He figures slathering his body with shampoo might neutralize everything, but instead it just blends to make a weird floral-cinnamon scent that smells like nothing but a burning flower shop. But it works – he doesn’t smell like Happy anymore.

When he stumbles into bed, his sheets smell like her. When he washes his sheets, one of her shirts is tossed haphazardly over the bathroom sink. When he carefully folds her shirt and sets it in the drawer he cleared out for her things, he spots the picture of the two of them he doesn’t think Happy knows he’s found.

The only thing he can manage to say is, “Ouch.”

So he closes the door and crashes into his bed, using the sheets he’s had since his first practice when he wasn’t even in his twenties yet, and decides to sleep.

It doesn’t come easily. His mind wanders place to place. What Happy’s husband might have looked like, what she might be doing right now, what her life was before Scorpion.

He realizes just how little he knows about the Scorpion team, how little they know about each other.

When he finally falls asleep, Toby dreams about the collapse of the team in heartbreak and anger, each member of the team shouting horrible things at each other.

Toby forces himself to wake up, sitting up straight. He has to look around for a minute before remembering that Happy isn’t here. And then he realizes that half of the things he dreamt, half of the things that had rattled around in his head – they were real. They happened. Happy’s married.

Toby fumbles for his phone and calls Walter.

“Paige!” Walter exclaims.

“Uh, no,” Toby says. “It’s Toby, your obnoxious best friend.”

“Oh,” Walter says, sounding annoyingly disappointed. “I was hoping you would be Paige.”

“Clearly,” Toby replies. “But I don’t have the legs.”

Walter’s silent for a moment. “What are you calling for?”

“I just – I guess I wanted to talk.” The words sound absurd even as he’s saying them. “That sounded incredibly stupid.”

“Yes, it did,” Walter replies. “Especially since you know what I’m in the middle of.”

“Yeah, still not at that jazz festival yet?” Toby rolls over on his stomach, playing with the frayed end of his blanket.

“Another forty-five minutes of driving, another fifteen if there’s more traffic than I expect,” Walter says. He sounds frustrated. “There is a chance I won’t get there in time to express my feelings without damaging my professional relationship with both Tim and Paige, isn’t there?”

Toby’s quiet for a moment. “Yes, I guess so,” Toby replies. “But that’s worth the risk, isn’t it? For love.”

“Love’s a chemical reaction in the brain,” Walter spurts out.

Toby groans. “It’s also the most powerful force in our universe.”

“Actually –”

“Oh, would you shut up?’ Toby groans. “Okay, you know what? This phone call actually did make me feel better, because I remember I’m not as much as an emotional dumpster fire as you are.”

“Did you call me just to insult me?” Walter asks. For once, he sounds baffled. Toby feels a little pleased about it.

“No, but I’m pretty pleased with the outcome.”

“Could you spent twenty minutes of your life not being a jackass?” Walter grumbles.

“You’re the one who’s still on the phone with me,” Toby says, trying not to feel too smug about it.

“Yes, and I question my sanity on that front,” Walter replies. The line is quiet for so long that Toby thinks Walter has hung up on him. He wouldn’t have blamed Walter – Toby really is a jackass sometimes. “Toby, what do I do if she chooses Tim?”

Toby’s so floored by the question that his only response is, “What now?”

“What do I do if Paige doesn’t want me?” he says. He sounds insecure and worried, something that feels incredibly wrong.

“Well,” Toby begins, “then you go back to what you are right now, right in this moment.”

“Which is?” Walter asks.

“Friends.”

Walter’s quiet again. “I think I could handle that,” he replies, his voice small. It’s clear that he couldn’t really handle it – wouldn’t want to handle it.

“You really love her, don’t you?” Toby asks gently.

“I’ve got to go,” Walter says quickly. “I hope things work out with you and Happy. And – and I’m sorry that I was so callous in regards to her reaction to your proposal.” And he hangs up.

“This is the weirdest night of my life,” Toby mumbles. But the weirdness overpowers the anxiety, and he finally sleeps without a maddening dream.

~

He wakes up with a hangover and a craving for pancakes.

“Hey, Hap, do you want to –” And then the memory of the night before comes flooding back. “Oh, fuck.” He collapses back into bed and begins to brain storm an idea of a restaurant that delivers breakfast food, because all he wants are Happy’s pancakes and maybe a really big glass of water.

“Well, at least I can have one of those right now,” he grumbles.

Standing is uncomfortable – the world spins around him just enough to make him feel queasy – and walking to the bathroom directs him right to the toilet.

He thinks he should regret the amount of tequila he consumed the night before, but, really, it’s a better feeling that he’d have if he were just thinking about what happened with Happy.

He manages to get up a few minutes later, pulling for a bottle of water from the fridge. He swishes the first sip around in his mouth, spitting it out in the sink and wiping his mouth.

“Damn tequila,” he mumbles. “Damn worm.”

He throws himself into the shower again, because he knows how tequila reacts the day after, and spends more time in there than he should. Between last night and this morning, he’s going to jack up his water bill.

He’s miserable all morning, unsure of why he’s awake, but despite the ache in his heart he can’t help himself from wanting to call Happy.

He fiddles with his phone, turning it over and over in his hands, trying to pretend he didn’t memorize Happy’s number the first day he met her.

He dials, but hesitates to press send. There’s a lot happening – maybe he needs to wait. There’s a small part of him that wants to make Happy wait, make her wonder if he’s ever going to make the call.

And then he thinks about how awful he felt when Happy left, when there was no communication. It mirrored the time Amy walked out and never came back without even a phone call. Toby won’t do that to anyone.

He presses send. The phone rings.

“Toby,” Happy says, soundly relieved.

“Happy?” Toby says quietly. “Hi.”

And then the awkward silence comes back, heavy and thick. “So,” Happy says, hesitating with every sound. Toby can practically hear what Happy’s doing right now – fiddling with a pen in her hands or throwing a tennis ball against the wall. He wants her to be here with him right now. He wants her to be wearing his ring on her finger.

“Yeah,” Toby mumbles.

“I’m sorry,” Happy blurts out.

“I know,” Toby replies quietly. “I know.”

“No, Toby. I’m sorry,” she says, and the words sound forced out of her. “I’m sorry I’m always ruining everything. I’m sorry – I’m sorry that I’m hurting you over and over again and I can’t seem to stop.” There’s a shake in her voice, but Happy doesn’t stop. “I don’t deserve somebody like you and I don’t know how to. I want –” she quiets for a moment. “I want you to be happy.”

Toby thinks that might be the longest non-technical thing she’s said to him since she told him never to pull the rug out from under her again. He takes a moment to process it, to take it all in.

“I want you to be happy,” he replies.

“No!” Happy shouts into the phone, and it’s so unexpected that Toby jolts. “No, I mean – I don’t deserve it. This isn’t about me, Toby, I’m – good at two things: mechanics and running away. And I don’t want to run away this time, but I don’t want you to be a casualty of me trying to be human.”

Toby laughs before he thinks about it.

“What about that was funny?!” Happy snaps.

“No! Not funny,” Toby replies. “Sorry. Not what I meant. I just – the thought that you don’t make me happy, that I’d be a, how’d you put it? A casualty of you being human,” he shakes his head. “Happy, you’re the best part of my life. I hate who I was before you started challenging me.” He sighs. “I also hate that you’re married, and that you didn’t feel comfortable telling me that you were married all this time.”

It’s quiet. “Do you hate me?” Happy asks.

“Never,” Toby says firmly. “You could stab me in the eyes while hacking me apart with an axe and I’d still love you.”

“That would require more coordination than humanly possible,” Happy says. But Toby thinks he hears a smile in her voice and it makes him feel better.

“You call me next, okay?” Toby says. “I think you need some time to figure out what to do next. But I’m here,” Toby says. “And I want to work this out. As hurt as I am, I want you. I was serious about the proposal. I want the rest of my life with you, but we need to be honest with each other.” And now he has to say what he’s fought for ages. “And part of that is you deciding whether or not you want to spend the rest of your life with me, and if you want to end the marriage. Your other marriage.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for some time, and Toby worries that he just asked a question he never wanted the answer to.

“That’s not an if,” Happy says.

“What?”

“It’s not an if,” Happy says. “It’s just a fact. I don’t want to be married to him anymore.” Toby can’t help but notice the “anymore.” As much as Happy doesn’t want to say it, it’s clear that they had something once. He just wants her to know who it is she wants in her future. “I don’t. And I – I do want to be part of your life, Toby,” she says. “The rest of our lives.” She’s quiet for a moment. “You’re the rest of my life.”

If she was here, Toby knows that she’d try to kiss him right now. “Hey, Hap?” Toby says.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for talking to me,” he says quietly. “I know it’s hard for you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you again,” Happy replies, voice small. “And if that means I have to say everything, even though I suck at it, then I’ll do it.”

“I appreciate that,” Toby says. “Hey, I’ve got to go. Walter’s calling – I don’t want to keep him waiting if there’s something going on with Paige.”

“Paige?” Happy asks. “What’s going on with Paige?”

Toby sighs. “After you left, Walter had this realization that he was in love with Paige. And he went off after her and Tim.”

“Damn,” Happy says. “It’s been a hell of a few hours, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Toby sighs. “It really has.”

“I’ll call you later, okay?” Happy says. “Go fix Walter.”

“Now that’s a job,” Toby laughs. Happy hangs up, and Toby answers Walter’s call. “Hey, Walt, what’s –”

“They turned around and went back,” Walter says, sounding panicked. “I looked around the entire place to try to find them, only to figure out from the people at the hotel that they had left an hour before.” Toby hears a strange, dull thud in the background, like Walter’s punched the steering wheel. It’s something Toby’s only seen him do a few times, but, without the visual, it’s somehow even worse.

“Did the hotel tell you why?” Toby asks. “Or is it just –”

“I don’t know,” Walter says through what are clearly gritted teeth. The frustration and confusion sounds so wrong in Walter’s voice that it disturbs Toby.

“Just – try to get yourself home, okay?” Toby says. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t,” Walter replies. “I’m getting gas and then – and then I’m coming home.” He sighs. “Please inform me if Paige or Tim contact you.”

“Of course,” Toby says. “And, Walter? I’m sorry.”

Walter just hangs up the phone.

Toby’s left to settle in the silence. His apartment feels huge without Happy, empty and unlike home. He hasn’t gone to sleep without her in weeks, hasn’t started his day without speaking to her first thing in the morning in months. It feels wrong.

He spends the rest of the day waiting for phone calls, hoping for somebody to give him updates. His phone is silent, and so is he. He curls up in bed and puts on a bunch of stupid reality shows, skipping over any about cars or motorcycles. Toby falls asleep earlier than he has since he was in high school, and wakes up at six in the morning.

He remembers Happy’s not here when he wakes up, and somehow that’s worse than forgetting. The bed feels cold and empty, and sleeping in his clothes makes Toby feel wrong. He showers off the discomfort, and at least this morning he isn’t waking up hungover.

After his phone rings at seven with his daily alarm, Toby realizes it’s Monday, but nobody’s called him or asked where he is, so he’s deciding to take a sick day. If there’s no case, he’s got nothing to do, anyway. He settles into the couch, picking up a book on Reactive Attachment Disorder, and makes a decent dent in it before his phone rings.

It takes a second before he realizes who it might be, and answers in a flash when he sees that it’s Happy on the other line.

“I miss you,” Happy says before Toby can even speak.

“Miss you too,” Toby replies. He’s relieved – there’s a part of him, a horrible part of him, that worried that Happy would never call him back.

“Can I come over?” she blurts out. “Not – just to talk,” she clarifies. “I just want – want to talk to you.” She sighs. “I really miss you.”

“You said that already,” Toby says. “But, yeah. I’d love for you to come over.”

“Great,” Happy says, relief in her voice. “Um. Awesome. I’ll – I’ll come by in – in half an hour?” Toby’s never heard such hesitation in her voice before, such uncertainty. Happy’s trying her best to communicate but she’s not doing so great. It disorients him.

“See you then,” Toby says. He hangs up, and falls back onto the couch.

And then he gets a look around his apartment, and immediately feels horrified.

In half an hour he scrambles up something that could pass for a clean apartment, dirty laundry shoved into his closet, dirty dishes shoved into the dish washer. He wipes down counters, tries to make his hair do something better than a rat’s nest, and is in the middle of trying to make himself presentable when he hears a knock on the door followed by the creak of the door opening.

He’s never nervous around her, but, ever since he bent down on one knee, it’s like nerves control everything about them.

“You here?” Happy asks, and it feels a little bit like home to hear her voice echo in his living room.

“Yeah, hi,” Toby says, walking in. She smiles when she sees him, and he can tell he’s mirroring the smile.

“Hi,” she says back. His heart skips when he sees she brought a bag. He doesn’t really know what she means with that.

“Glad you’re here,” he says. It’s so awkward – they’ve never been awkward. With Happy it’s never supposed to be awkward.

Happy nods, dropping the bag on the ground and taking a few steps toward Toby. “Me too,” she says quietly.

There’s a charged moment where it feels like both of them are just waiting for the other to move. And then it happens. Like cannonballs both shoot toward each other, lips locking something fierce with days of exhaustion, heartache, and exasperation behind it. She whimpers when he catches her face in his hands, her hands scrambling against the back of his shirt, trying to pull him closer.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers, pulling away just enough so he can look her in the eye.

“Me, too,” Toby says. “I mean, you.”

Happy smiles, small but sincere. “Can we – can we stop hurting?”

Toby kisses her on the nose. “That’s not something that happens in one week, Hap,” he murmurs. He plays with her hair absent mindedly.

Happy exhales. “Can it happen eventually?”

Toby nods. “Yeah, of course. But it’s going to take some time.”

“Then it’s a good thing you want to spend the rest of your life with me,” Happy says. That smile comes back – something that makes Toby feel like he’s at Disney World at Christmas but without the crowds.

“Depends on if you want to spend the rest of your life with me, though,” Toby adds. “I’m not going into this – I don’t want to get hurt again.”

Happy nods. “I know.” She looks up at him. “But – I don’t want to be married. To him, I mean.”

Toby purses his lips. “But is that true only because you’re with me right now, or is it true because you really don’t want to be married?” He hates asking these questions. “Why now?”

Happy takes a step away from him. “Because I never knew how serious you were about me – about us – until you proposed.”

Toby stares at her. “Excuse me?”

“Just – I didn’t realize – I didn’t know that you were planning long-term,” Happy tries to explain.

“I’ve told you I loved you for years,” Toby replies. “How did you not know that I want this to last?”

“I guess I don’t trust much,” Happy mumbles.

“You don’t trust anyone,” Toby corrects.

Happy curls up on herself, wrapping her arms around her waist. “That’s fair,” she mumbles.

“So you need to decide whether or not you want to end that marriage –”

“I do!” Happy fires back. “Don’t – I didn’t end it because I was scared to lose the one connection that seemed to last, even after it stopped working. I was a coward, okay?” she’s starting to get a little angry, defensive. “I was a coward. But I’m done with that, okay? I’m sick of being afraid of losing people when all it does it make me lose people.” She takes a step toward him.

“Okay,” Toby says. “So, what does that mean?”

“It means,” Happy says, and with this step she’s so close to him it’s hard not to reach out and hold her, “that I’m ready to do what I should have done years ago. I never had a good enough reason to end it for good.” She reaches up and, in a gesture more gentle than anything Happy Quinn has ever done, rests her hand on Toby’s cheeks. “Now I do.”

This time, Toby’s the one who is speechless. He leans in and kisses Happy softly, and she kisses back, hands resting at her side.

“Happy?” Toby murmurs against her lips.

“Hmm?”

“Do you want me to help?”

“With what?” Happy asks. When Toby pulls away her eyes are still closed, like she’s trying to hold onto the moment.

“With the divorce,” Toby says, running his hands through Happy’s hair. “Do you want me to help?”

Happy opens her eyes again. “Yes,” she replies. “Whatever we can do, if you want to.”

He smiles at her. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Happy nods. “If I can trust anyone, I can trust you.” She reaches out and pulls Toby close, a hand around the small of Toby’s back, and their lips clash. But there’s no anger or violence behind it. It’s all communication, Happy’s specialty: the physical connection.

But Toby doesn’t want it all to be physical, he wants to know more about the specifics. What Happy likes, what she loves, what she loves the most about him and her hopes for what they’re going to be. He can only go so far with the physical. At a point, he doesn’t know what’s being said.

Happy walks them to the bedroom, Toby following, until he pulls away to kiss at her forehead.

“Tell me what you want,” Toby murmurs against her skin. He kisses along her jawline, hands holding hers until she pulls him closer.

“I – I want you,” Happy says. He can hear the confusion in her voice, like she doesn’t know what he’s asking her.

“I know,” Toby says, pulling just far enough away that he can see her. “But, Happy. I want you to tell me what you want. Everything you want tonight.”

She searches his face for a moment, and then understanding dawns. “Why?”

“Because I want you to be able to talk to me.” He drops her hands and cups her cheeks. “It’s a way we can practice communicating.”

To his surprise, Happy’s cheeks turn pink. “Like – say everything?”

Toby nods, sliding his hands to her shoulders. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do. It’s all in your hands.” He rubs her shoulder with his thumbs. “And this way you’ll know you can trust me.”

“I already know that,” Happy says. “But – I like this idea.” Her hands shake, just a little bit, as she slides her hands up the front of his shirt. “I just – tell you?”

Toby nods. “Usually I just take hints, but this time,” he kisses her forehead, “you tell me everything.”

Happy nods. “Okay.”

They just stare at each other for a moment.

“You okay?” Toby asks, tucking a rogue curl behind her ear.

Happy nods slowly. “Just trying to decide what – how – what to say first.” Her eyes flicker down to his lips. “Kiss me?”

Toby nods and leans down, kissing her as gently as he can remember ever doing. She sighs against his lips and steps closer, deepening the kiss as she pulls him closer.

“Come on, really kiss me,” Happy says, laughter in the back of her voice. “You can do better than that.”

He leans in and meets Happy’s challenge, swallowing Happy’s moan when he slides his tongue into her mouth. She loops her hands around his neck, then pauses.

“I keep forgetting that I’m supposed to talk,” Happy says. Toby’s a little pleased about how breathless she sounds, how pink and flushed she looks.

“That’s okay,” Toby says, smiling down at her. “Just – what do you usually like me to do?”

Happy exhales. “I – I like when you,” she clears her throat. “God, this is hard.”

Toby resists his impulse to say “that’s what she said” and nods. “If you don’t want –”

“No, I do,” Happy interrupts. The only time he’s seen her this frustrated is when they’ve tried to parse out their relationship, work through emotional things that are harder than just a repair in a machine. “It’s just –” and that’s when he realizes her hands are shaking, just a tiny bit “ – I don’t want to do this wrong.”

“Do this wrong?” Toby asks. “What do you mean?”

She takes a few moments to breathe. Toby doesn’t take long to recognize that she’s practicing the calming breathing technique that he taught her. “I don’t want to make you leave.”

Toby stares at her. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Happy.”

“If there’s anything I say that makes you feel weird or uncomfortable, stop me,” she insists.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can say here that would make me uncomfortable,” Toby promises, “but if there is, I’ll stop you.”

She nods, playing with her fingers, and that’s when Toby makes the connection. For Happy, actions are her communication, whereas words are Toby’s. Combining the two forms is daunting, overwhelming, and it’s written all over her face that Happy is worried she’ll say or do something that will push Toby away.

“I want to hear anything you have to say,” Toby says. And it seems to make sense to her.

“I want you to kiss me again,” Happy says. She gets an impish look in her eyes. “But I want your shirt off, first.”

Toby grins and does as she asks. “Like that?”

“You’re still not kissing me.”

So he does, pulling her close. Happy’s hands run up his chest, then settle on his shoulders. She’s gentler today that she’s even been with him, little glancing touches alongside half kisses to the corners of his mouth. It’s her version of an apology, he thinks, reminders to both herself and Toby that what they have is fragile and she has to be careful with them.

But as she pulls him toward his bed, he’s thinking she’s treating him with less fragility. She steps back and pulls off her jacket, then her shirt.

“Aw,” Toby pouts, “I wanted to do it.”

Happy’s smile is soft. “Well, you can take care of my bra.”

It’s a soft, light blue, one Toby’s seen a dozen times, but today it seems different as he unhooks it. The straps fall off of Happy’s shoulders, and Toby feels like it’s their first time together again.

“You going to do anything or just stare?” Happy asks as Toby drops the bra to the floor.

“You haven’t asked for anything yet,” he teases.

“Touch me,” Happy says with a little bite. “Duh.”

“Did you just say ‘duh’?” Toby laughs.

“Yes, now shut up.” She steps closer to Toby and he settles his hands on her waist. He shivers when their skin touches, his chest on fire where she touches him. Her skin is unbearably soft, smooth, everything he can think about. There’s not much better than when he can surround himself with her, block out everything else.

But it doesn’t quite work, blocking things out, when she’s part of the reason he’s hurting. He pulls away, trailing his fingertips up and down her arms.

Happy studies his face. “Are you – okay?” she asks. He can tell how hard she’s working to figure out what’s happening.

“Just – I forgot what happened the other day,” he says quietly. “Just for a minute, I forgot what happened.”

She looks ashamed, which is the opposite of what Toby had hoped. “Wait, Hap, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” He cups her face. “Hey, look at me.” She does. “Hap, I meant that I forgot about it for a minute. Which is good – really good. It means we can fix this. We can fix what happened.”

Happy frowns. “You sure we can?”

Toby nods. “You care about me, right?” Happy nods. “And you know how I feel about you.” Happy nods again. “This is important to both of us. We’re important to each other. So I don’t think there’s anything that’s going to get in our way.”

Happy smiles at him, but it falters in a moment. “How can you forgive all of this?” she asks.

“Because I love you,” Toby says simply. “And, of course, because we’re going to work together to fix this divorce and fix our relationship.”

Happy stands on her toes and kisses him, falling toward him so hard that the two of them crash onto the bed.

“What next, honey?” Toby murmurs, pressing little kisses to Happy’s lips.

“I can’t –” she kisses him back “ – respond when you’re kissing me this much.”

“You told me to kiss you,” he mumbles against her lips. “I have to do as you say.”

She laughs, her hands running up and down his back. “I kind of like this set up.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” Toby replies. He moves his lips down Happy’s jawline, to her ear, tugging on the lobe with his teeth. “Not to quote Spice Girls, but tell me what you want.”

Happy makes a little desperate whine. “Oh, god.”

“Not quite, but thanks for the compliment,” Toby laughs.

“I want you – I want your hands on me,” Happy says. Toby loves seeing her like this, when Happy’s lost a bit of her edge and grabs at him like she wants nothing but him.

“Where?” Toby asks, biting a hickey into her neck.

Happy hums in approval, holding him too her, “Oh, keep doing that. Um, anywhere,” she says with a sigh. “Just – god, I need your hands on me.”

“Oh, you need them, huh?” Toby laughs. But he does as she asks, thumbs running across her nipples in a way that makes her utter a string of curse words combined with his names. “Good?” he asked.

“I don’t think I realized how much I missed this,” she says, pressing up into his touch. “C’mon, don’t stop.”

He follows her lead, touching when she asks for it and kissing when she demands it, getting more and more turned on with every word she says.

“Lay on your back,” Happy instructs. Toby does as she says, and Happy pins him to the mattress. He does his best not to whimper with delight when she nips from his neck up to his lips.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Happy whispers, her face close to Toby’s, “and you’re going to kiss back.”

“You’re getting good at this,” Toby replies. It’s everything he can do not to buck up against her, not to press against her and beg for more.

“I’m good at everything,” Happy replies. “Now kiss me again.”

Toby does. Every time they touch it sends a spark through Toby’s body.

“Take off your pants,” Happy instructs. “Right now.”

“Kind of hard to do when you’re on top of me, but I’ll do my best,” Toby says.

“Wait,” Happy says. “I’ll do it.”

She sits back on her heels, hands scrambling for Toby’s belt. She pulls it out and throws it on the floor.

“Did you just hit my lamp with my belt?” Toby asks, only slightly concerned.

“Don’t worry about it,” Happy says with a grin. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Worth it,” Toby replies.

She shoves down his jeans and lets them drop to the floor.

“Are you wearing Batman underpants?” Happy asks, looking baffled.

“I forgot to put away my laundry!” Toby exclaims. “I didn’t even realize I was wearing them.”

“You’re lucky I’m still going to sleep with you,” Happy says. But she leans in and kisses him sweetly, and Toby wonders if she finds the underpants endearing.

She pushes her own jeans off her hips along with her panties, and then crawls back on top of Toby. He feels her leg press against him and he’d be embarrassed by the whimper that comes out of his mouth if this was anyone but Happy.

Happy kisses his nose. “Take off your stupid underwear.”

Toby nods and does as he’s told.

“Okay,” Happy says, “now I want you to go down on me.” She says it quickly, like she’s trying to rush the words out before she can think about what she’s saying.

“My pleasure,” Toby says with a grin. He presses one more kiss to her lips, and then slides down her body. “You’ve got to tell me what to do.”

Happy props herself up on her elbows. “But you’re always so obnoxiously good at it.”

Toby shrugs. “I mean, yeah, I know. But you have to tell me what to do,” he repeats. “It’s the rules.”

Happy sighs. “Damn rules.” She lay back on the bed. “Just – put your mouth on me.”

“Can’t wait,” Toby replies, peppering kisses along her thighs.

He drags his lips along the inside of her thigh until he presses his lips to her clit, and Happy jolts.

“You good?” Toby asks, trying not to react.

“Yup, I’m good, stop talking,” Happy instructs.

Toby puts his mouth to work, getting egged on by each moan and gasp that Happy lets out. Her instructions are specific and detailed, like she’s telling him how to fix a car. When she instructs him, he slides a finger inside her while he works her clit with his tongue.

“I – don’t stop doing that,” she gasps. “Just like that.”

Her hips start to roll against him as she grabs at the sheets, her directions becoming wordless gasps that devolve into moans. She sighs his name when she comes, falling heavily down onto the mattress as he works her through her orgasm.

Toby tries not to feel too cocky about it as he listens to her heavy breathing as she comes down, pressing kisses along her lower belly.

“Okay,” Happy mumbles, looking a little dazed. “That – that was impressive.”

“It’s my greatest talent,” Toby replies. “What do you want me to do next?”

“Is it wrong to ask you to get me a glass of water?” she says, grinning at him.

“Your wish is my command, sweetie.” He kisses her cheek and stands up to go to the kitchen.

“And then after that, I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my own name,” she calls after him.

He pauses and walks backward. “What now?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You heard me.”

“Yeah, I did.” He winks at her. “You’re getting pretty good at this.”

She shrugs. “You’re a good listener.”

He comes back with two glasses of water and they drink while watching each other, something that feels more intimate than everything else they’ve done.

Happy sets her empty glass down. “Finish your water,” she says, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “I’ve got plans for you.”

“I like how that sounds,” Toby replies. He knocks back the last few sips in one gulp and pushes the glass to the bedside table.

“Kiss me,” Happy tells him. Toby does as he’s told, rolling on top of her and pressing his lips to hers. She pulls him closer, hooking her leg around his hip. He feels her wetness and he whimpers.

“Tell me what else you want,” Toby asks.

“Okay, I’ve dragged this out long enough,” Happy says, running her hands through his hair with just the slightest tug. She sits up and whispers in his ear, “Fuck me.”

“As you wish, beautiful,” Toby says. He reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a condom, sliding it onto himself while he sucks another hickey into the skin beneath Happy’s collarbone. She pushes up against his lips.

“Okay, love this, but you know your job,” Happy says, pressing up against him.

He nods, kissing her forehead as he slides into her. The gasp she lets out makes him smile.

“Kiss me,” Happy mumbles, resting her hands on his shoulders. He does as she asks, and when she asks him to move faster, he does that, too.

Her kisses are hungry, speaking more for her than words could, until she pulls away with a smile.

“Turn over,” Happy says. “My turn to be on top.”

Toby would never admit it to anyone but Happy, but this is his favorite. He likes it when Happy’s in control, when he can see the flush across her chest and across her cheekbones.

He loves her, he loves her even though he’s still a little broken.

“You can say it,” Happy says, looking a little hesitant, like she still doesn’t believe that he still feels the way he did when he proposed. “It’s okay.”

Toby sits up, and Happy’s eyes flutter shut at the change in their position. “Say what?”

“You can –” she cuts herself off as Toby rolls his hips, “oh, okay, um, you can tell me you love me.”

Toby looks at her. “You reading my mind, Hap?”

She shrugs, resting her hands on his shoulders as they find their rhythm again. “Guess I am,” she grins down at him, “Doc.”

So Toby says it, probably more times than necessary. He watches her eyes flutter closed, her hands tremble just slightly, the smile change into a look of bliss.

“Come here,” Happy mumbles, and she leans forward until they are pressed against each other, crashing her lips into his. She gasps into his mouth as he slides a hand between the two of them, touching her just enough that she comes for the second time that night. The moan that comes out of her mouth is enough to nearly send Toby over the edge, and with a few more thrusts he’s done, resting his forehead on Happy’s shoulder as he comes down from it.

“I love you,” he murmurs against the skin of her shoulder. “I love you.”

Happy nods. She pulls away just enough so that she can kiss him, back to being sweet and gentle. She holds Toby’s face in her hands. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asks.

She smiles. “For making me talk to you,” she falls to the side, stretching out on Toby’s bed. “For teaching me how to talk to you.”

Toby lay down next to her, gazing at her. “Thank you for talking to me,” he replies.

Happy nods. “Did you forget again?”

“Forget what?”

“Damn,” Happy sighs. “I totally ruined it.”

It comes back to him – what happened with the proposal, what happened when Happy left, the fact that she’s married. “Oh. Right.”

Happy’s quiet for a moment. “I wish I wasn’t married still,” she says quietly.

“I know,” Toby replies. “If it counts, I wish you weren’t married, too.”

Happy laughs lightly, just a little bit. “We’re going to take care of this,” she says firmly. “And then, maybe,” she breaks eye contact, looking down, “maybe you could ask me to marry you again?” She’s got the tiniest smile on her lips, something a little hesitant but definitely sweet.

He shrugs. “Or maybe you could ask me to marry you,” he suggests.

She looks up with him. “We’ll see about that.”

They’re quiet for some time and, again, Toby thinks this is the most intimate they’ve been all night. There’s something in the way she looks at him that makes him feel like she’s telling him everything she can’t say.

“I love you,” she says quietly, locking eyes with Toby.

He blinks. “You – what?”

Happy sighs. “Did you not hear me or are you processing?”

“Processing,” Toby says. He trails his fingertips along her body, because he wants to remind himself that she’s real, that she’s back in his arms. “You love me?”

Happy nods. “I’m sorry –”

“I have no idea what you’re apologizing for, but you don’t have to,” Toby interrupts.

Happy shoots him a glare that stops Toby in his tracks.

“I’m talking today,” she says firmly. “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you – everything.” Her eyes drop. “I trusted you. I swear. I’ve trusted you for years.” She rests her hand on his chest, gentle again. “I just don’t think I trusted myself to know how to tell you.”

Toby leans over and kisses the top of Happy’s head. “I’m glad you did.”

They’re both silent but awake for more than an hour, with no noise but each other’s breathing. Happy taps out indecipherable patterns on Toby’s chest, while Toby traces patterns into Happy’s shoulders. And he wonders if this moment is his way of communicating the way Happy needs to – by touch, by silence.

He writes, “I love you,” on Happy’s shoulder with his fingertip over and over again, and watches as Happy’s eyes flutter closed. She falls asleep soon after, lightly snoring like she always does.

“I love you,” Toby whispers. And when he falls asleep again, he thinks they will be happy again. It takes time, it’ll take work, but he knows they can do it.

His dreams are soft waving colors, calm pastels with no definition. And he thinks, maybe, it’s because Happy is back in his arms again.

**Author's Note:**

> (there's a chance the working title for this in my head was "So Tell Me Whacha Want, Whacha Really Really Want." I'm not ashamed.)


End file.
